Sleep Disorder
by Athena Phoenix 144
Summary: Diana persuades an obsessed Batman to take a breather from a multiple homicide case.


_Author's Note: Written for the Fanfic 100 Challenge. Prompt: Independence. Follows "Nearness"._

**Sleep Disorder**

by Athena Phoenix

He didn't react when he heard the hum of the transporter.

He didn't react when he heard the click of her red boots on the cave floor.

He didn't react when he felt her warm breath against his cheek.

"Bruce, come to bed."

"No." He gazed at the map, trying to see the pattern in the locations of the six murders – _any_ pattern.

"Bruce, you're exhausted. It's time to stop."

"No." He brought up another screen, comparing the dates of death. So far, the only similarity between the murders – the only reason anyone thought they were related – was that all of the victims had been strangled with a necktie. And the body of the last victim had still been warm when he arrived.

"Alfred told me about it. It wasn't your fault. You got there as fast as you could."

Computer keys clicked.

"I know you don't believe it, but there was nothing you could have done."

Silence. He'd stopped typing and was only staring, as if he could solve the puzzle by will alone.

"I mean it. Do you really feel responsible for every death in Gotham? You're only _human_; you can't expect so much of yourself."

In a fury, he swiveled in his chair to face her. "Leave. _Now_."

Diana stood her ground. "You don't really want me to leave."

He glared at her.

"Bruce, wearing yourself out isn't going to stop the killer. Your head will be clearer once you've had some rest."

"I don't need rest. _I need to find him._"

She crossed her arms. "You need to do _both_, you idiot! You have two choices: come to bed, or let me help you."

He spun back to face the screen. "I don't have time for this."

Diana pulled up a chair and sat next to him. "Then I guess I'm staying. What do you know about the murders so far?" She reached over for the stack of printouts on the desk.

He looked back with a glower. "I don't need your help."

She pretended to think for a moment. "No, I suppose not. You're the Batman. You don't need _anyone_."

She rose and walked toward the glass costume cases. Counting each name off on her fingers, she continued, "Let's see…you don't need Alfred, you don't need Leslie, you don't need Dick, you don't need Jim. You certainly don't need the League; you've made _that_ clear before. In fact, you're doing your best to disprove John Donne – you're the best damn island I've ever seen."

"Clever, Princess – been reading patriarchal literature in your spare time?"

Diana ignored his jab and kept pacing, "And despite the Nemesis costume you and Alfred made for me, you don't need me either. You're a lone wolf – maybe you should have called yourself Lobo instead?"

"Don't _ever_ compare me to that lowlife," Bruce muttered through gritted teeth.

Diana sighed explosively. "Dammit, Bruce, this whole argument – it's not _worthy_ of you. You haven't slept in _forty-eight hours_. You know physiology better than most _doctors_. You have an IQ of 220, for Hera's sake! I've never seen you act so – so _irrationally_. How can you _possibly_ sit there and _argue_ with me that you are at your peak deductive ability? Get a couple of hours of sleep, or let me help you."

He grabbed a pile of printouts and shoved them at her. "Put up or shut up."

Despite everything, Diana smiled. "That's more like it. _Pros Theôn_, let's get this bastard."

He didn't look up. "Swearing a lot lately, are we?"

"You're a bad influence," she deadpanned. "Now, what are your theories?"

Two hours later, they were studying the police files on their individual workstations when Diana saw the movement out of the corner of her eye. Bruce's head slumped forward; the long strenuous day had caught up with him at last.

She gently shook his shoulder. "That's it. Even bats have to sleep sometime."

To his credit, he didn't startle when she jostled him, merely opening his eyes and murmuring "Your observation skills are improving."

"Does that mean you'll willingly go to bed now? Or do I have to _persuade_ you?"

Blearily, he glanced up at her. "What method did you have in mind?"

She didn't answer, but simply ran a finger down his unshaven cheek and brushed it lightly across his lips.

One side of his mouth quirked upwards. "I'm not sure I'd be –"

Diana's finger came to rest again on his lips. "Let _me_ worry about that."

This time, he couldn't help but kiss her fingertip, and she smiled. "Should I expect you upstairs shortly?"

"In a minute," he replied, looking back at his notes.

"Is that a ten-minute 'in a minute', or a two-hour 'in a minute'?" she asked playfully.

"Would Bruce Wayne ever leave a beautiful woman waiting?" he parried.

"Paris comes to mind."

"Touché, Princess," he conceded.

She rose and headed for the stairs.

**The End**


End file.
